The Promise Read online

  Nikita Singh, an avid blogger and writer, is the author of three bestselling novels-Love @ Facebook, Accidentally in Love and If It's Not Forever (co-authored with Durjoy Datta). She has also contributed in the books of The Backbenchers series.

  With a library stocked with over twelve thousand books, she is a voracious reader and loves her collection of fantasy novels.

  She graduated in pharmacy and works as an editor at a leading publishing house.

  Love @ Facebook

  Accidentally in Love!

  If It's Not Forever

  Nikita Singh

  Once again, I am faced with the task of showing gratitude to people who helped me while I was working on this book. Once again, the list is the same. More than anything, I am grateful to each one of them, for constantly being there with me, never giving up on me.

  Every time I write a book, I think I go a little crazy. I thank my entire family for dealing with whatever I put them through-from my moodiness and tantrums to my selfcentredness and the inversion of my biological clock-in the course of time it takes me to finish writing. Maa, Papa-as you already know-you're the best parents ever. Much love.

  Durjoy Datta-for reading the manuscript and suggesting valuable inputs for its improvement. I still believe that your words could have been less mean, but as long as they made the book better, I don't really have a right to complain!

  Sachin Garg, for refusing to read the book, but still maintaining that I must have written well. It is safe to assume that I'm not going to read your next book. But of course, I'm sure it'll be amazing!

  Naman Kapur, for all his efforts in getting The Promise the awesome jacket it now has. I told you green looks much better than blue!

  Padmamalini Gali Rao, for her immaculate editing, rectifying all the glaring mistakes I made while writing, and being so painfully direct about what doesn't work in the storyline!

  Special thanks to Alka Singh, the first reader of each new book I write. For the love and appreciation you give me, I am forever indebted.

  To all my friends. You know who you are. If I start naming you, the page will not suffice and I will be detested for any names I miss out, so let's not get into all that.

  A big hug to each one of my readers-you are the reason why I write. I am eternally grateful.

  Guruji Sri Sri Paramhansa Yogananda for his teachings, which make me believe.

  In the blink of an eye, everything changes. You meet a person and do not know whether they are going to be your one true love or are you going to look at them bitterly, ten years later, regretting ever getting involved with them.

  Life is a lot like a movie whose characters we keep meeting on the way. Their roles as well as the whole plot are unknown, waiting to be discovered as we live, as life unfolds, as surprises unravel.

  True friendship needs conversation-through words, eyes, smiles-to make everything fine between friends. The word 'sorry' holds no significance.

  ome on, you're already ten minutes late,' her friend, Mili, shouted at her over the phone.

  'You guys go in. I'll be there in a jiffy!' she breathed out loudly. She had been half-running half-falling all around the place since the last ten minutes and her legs were just about to give up. She knew it would take her at least twenty more minutes to get to PVR, which meant she'd miss the first half an hour of the movie... but she really didn't want to miss the show. In fact, getting there in twenty minutes depended hugely on whether or not she could finally get an auto; she felt like she'd been looking for one since forever. But she still wasn't willing to give up.

  'How much is a jiffy?' Mili asked.

  'About twenty ...'she began to say just as she saw someone else get into the auto she had managed to summon. She ran after it. 'Hey! Hey, mister-that was my auto. I called it first.'

  No one paid her any heed. The man got into the passenger seat and the auto driver drove away. As Shambhavi began cursing under her breath about the manner-less idiots roaming around the world nowadays, Mili's patience broke.'How long?' she asked again.

  'What? Oh, the movie. Twenty minutes. Wait, make that thirty. My car's battery is down again. And I just can't seem to find a ride. Where did all the autos go?' Shambhavi started muttering.

  'You'll miss forty minutes of the movie. That's half.'

  'That's not half. The movie is ninety minutes long. So forty minutes -'

  'Stop it. You know what? Forget it. Just don't come,' Mili said.

  'Whoa! It's not like I'm not trying.'

  'If only you'd tried hard enough.' Mili s tone was sad. It was evident that she was disappointed.

  'Arey, I swear I'll be there by-' Shambhavi paused. 'Hello? You there? Mili?'

  Darn. It was not the first time that was happening. Recently, all she heard from her friends were long lectures about her carelessness. Less friendly friends never let pass opportunities of sliding snide remarks about how self-absorbed she was. She had learnt that it was a way of life, and she should not pay any heed to such comments; people just needed someone to bash.

  But Mili wasn't just anyone. She was her best friend, and had been so since the last six years. And Shambhavi was really sad about disappointing her once again. In her defence, she had not realized how much time had passed, as she hopped from shop to shop, searching for the exact shade of blue her client had requested.

  Not only had she failed to find the shade, she also ended up getting really late for her best friend's boyfriend's farewell celebration. She understood that Mili did have a reason to be furious. Even though technically it was a celebration, for Mili, it was anything but that.

  It was Shambhavi who had introduced Vikaas to Mili. He had hired Shambhavi to work on the decoration of his new home, when he shifted to her city-Indore. Right out of college, Shambhavi tried her hand at interior designing and he was one of her first clients. They had gotten to know each other a little and that was how he bumped into Mili, one fine day. Shambhavi had made the introductions and left to complete her work.

  Little did she know that the two would decide to fall in love at their first hello and become annoyingly inseparable over a few weeks' time. But that's how love happens-at unexpected places, between unexpected people, during unexpected times. For Mili and Vikaas, when it happened, it happened for real. They remained inseparable for two smooth years, until Vikaas got an opportunity he could not refuse-his company was sending him off to the US for a year, to get an accelerated MBA.

  And that's why the farewell party. Even though Mili put on a fake smile and pretended to be a supporting girlfriend, Shambhavi knew that she needed her to be there and keep her sane. She was freaking out about Vikaas' trip. One year is a long time.

  Shambhavi cursed herself again, when she spotted yet another cab, only to find out that it was occupied. She finally gave up on getting to the movie. She had another plan.

  When Mili and the gang got to their reserved table at Sayaji, Shambhavi was already there. She looked up at Mili and smiled a sweet smile. If Mili was surprised, she hid it well. She tried to act nonchalant, but Shambhavi knew it was only a matter of time till she melted. That is how it always happened.

  And sure enough, halfway into the first course of dinner, they were whispering into each other's ears about who wore what and how ridiculous the girl with green hair at the table on their right looked. There were six other people at their table-Vikaas, two of his friends and three of Mili's friends. While the guys were busy talking intelligent stuff like the stock market, the girls nodded in deep understanding at every word they uttered, even though they clearly did not understand any of it.

  Shambhavi and Mili, on the other hand, did not even try to listen to the conversation at the table, let alone understand or participate in it. They were busy exchanging glances and t
rying to understand what the other was feeling without the use of words. They had always been like that.

  Although theirs was not a lifelong friendship, since they had met at their initiation session in college, they had gelled with each other within seconds, and had been inseparable since, even though they had nothing in common. Shambhavi was the carefree, sprightly, artistic one, with big almond eyes a deep shade of coffee, a cute heart-shaped face, with a nose that crinkled when she smiled and a spring in her feet. She had no care in the world, was always optimistic-sometimes overtly so-and lived in the 'today'. She was an artistsomeone who painted, wrote poetry and danced, sometimes getting so immersed in her art that she forgot about the rest of the world ...

  ... While Mili was the perfect example of the girl next door. Her deep set eyes the colour of charcoal, which were almost always wide with worry; she worried too much, about too many things. With her slender figure, midnight black hair, long eyelashes and dimpled cheeks, no one could guess that she was a journalist. And not just a desk one, but the type who needed to go out in the field and interview people. She worked for a magazine's Indore segment, the city where she had grown up and had lived in since childhood.

  They were the exact opposite of each other. Fire and ice.

  'What's the plan for the night? I mean-the rest of it,' Shambhavi asked Mili and winked. The silent eye-to-eye conversation was getting a bit too much for her to take.

  'We're going back together. We have a room,' Mili replied quietly.

  'Wow! Nice.'

  'Shh. No one knows. And if anyone asks-I slept over at your place. Got it?'

  'Got it,' Shambhavi nodded and continued teasing her, redin-the-face friend. 'So, you're going to-'

  'No! Can't you speak a little softly? There are other people here.'

  'Oh, yes,' Shambhavi whispered, speaking at a volume about ten notches lower. 'I was asking-are you guys going to ... you know ... get some?'

  'No, we aren't. You know that.' Mili blushed redder than ever.

  'No? Then what exactly are you planning on doing all night?'

  'Talking. I don't know when I'll get to talk to him face to face after this ...'

  'Don't be such a drama queen-' Shambhavi started to say but stopped, on noticing the tears in her best friend's eyes. Panicking about everything was Miii s forte, but she had never been so sensitive before. Tears had been very occasional guests. She was taking the Vikaas-being-away-for-a-year thing too hard. Since recently, she was always at the brink of tears.

  Shambhavi squeezed her arm and Mili cleared her throat and smiled a fake smile. 'Enough about me. Tell me-what's with you? I can't believe I'm seeing you after a whole week. Where have you been?'

  'Don't even ask. Things have been real hectic work-wise.'

  'Tough project?'

  'Very tough. I wish photography had worked out better for me. It's lots of fun, but with Photoshop, anyone can become a photographer. Just like me. Every third person claims to be one,' Shambhavi crinkled her nose. 'It was fun while it lasted. But I really needed something more stable and lucrative.'

  'But what you're doing is stable and lucrative, isn't it?'

  'Yes, but ... I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I'm trapped. There's so much more I want to do. This is fun, but recently, it has become such a pain. But then, I'm a graduate in English... what kind of options do I have?'

  'Yeah, I know. I told you-you should've gone for your Masters,' Mili said. After they graduated together in English two years ago, Mili had immediately joined back college to get her Masters, quickly following it with a job, whereas Shambhavi had gone ahead and tried every art she was good at. It eventually turned out that even though she was good at most of them, she didn't have the kind of drive for any of them that would take her places. She got bored of everything very easily and very quickly.

  She tried everything under the sun in the first year after graduating. Starting from interior designing, she tried her hand at painting, dancing, singing, playing the guitar, photographing and many similar stints. She eventually returned to interior designing and had been at it for a year, sincerely and diligently. But still... she felt that she was always struggling to handle it properly. She was good at designing, but somehow, the cash flow was far from satisfactory..

  'Yeah, I guess. But it wouldn't have been as much fun then, would it?'

  'It's not always about fun. You're twenty-three years old and-'

  'Exactly my point. I am just twenty-three. I have all the time in the world to try everything my heart desires,' Shambhavi swiftly turned the game into her favour.

  'What else is there left to try? You've tried literally everything. Remember that flower shop you started?'

  'Ah, yes. I still miss the smell of fresh lilies.'

  'Of course-you loved that smell and the beautiful arrangements so much that you refused to sell half of the flowers. That's your idea of business?'

  'That's my idea of passion. Besides, you've never been surrounded with flowers for days in a row. You'll never understand how much a part of my life they had become. How could I just let them go? And just to fill my pockets?' Shambhavi reasoned. There was a nostalgic expression on her face; it was clear that she was remembering the good times she had spent with her beloved flowers. And frankly, the starry-eyed expression made her look a bit loony.

  'You are insane. You-'

  'And you are too sane. That's your problem. Try to live, man! Just enjoy today, without a worry about tomorrow. Work is not everything.'

  'Oh yes? Is that why you have been so busy with work the whole week that you didn't have time to call me even once?' Mili asked.

  'But my case is different. My work is fun.'

  'Not what you were saying just minutes ago.'

  Shambhavi opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again. She nodded slowly. 'I just need a little breathing space. It's been too hectic recently.'

  'I understand. It's not as if you're the first person who struggles with work. I did too, when I first joined the magazine. But it has been almost a month and I have settled in well,' Mili preached.

  Mili had been after Shambhavi ever since graduation to get her to be serious about life and settle into something. She was the happiest when Shambhavi returned to interior designing after a whole year of fooling around. Since then, Mili had made it her life's agenda to keep Shambhavi from quitting it and going back to her haphazard lifestyle. It had been difficult in the beginning, with Shambhavi trying to give up at every turn. But after a while, she needed less prodding. Shambhavi had become oddly serious about her 'career' (if Mili dared call it that), and worked with unmatched intensity, as if there was an invisible force guiding her. It had been a long time since Mili had heard her complain.

  'Hmm. I'm trying,' Shambhavi murmured. There was worry etched on her forehead. Mili's brows furrowed as she studied her best friend. She knew there was something going on with her; she had dark circles under her eyes and looked tensed and fatigued. In fact, it wasn't the first time she was noticing that. But before she could ask, Vikaas turned to Shambhavi.

  'Isn't Mili staying over at your place tonight?' Vikaas asked Shambhavi. It seemed like the guys had had enough talk about the stock market and politics.

  'What? Ah-right. Yes, she'll stay with me for the night,' Shambhavi replied.

  'Cool. I'll drop the girls off at Shambhavi's place and be on my way,' he said, turning to the rest of the group.

  They said their goodbyes and Shambhavi smiled sweetly at them all. She had never had much contact with either Vikaas or Mili's friends' circle. If anything, she thought that the guys were too nerdy and the girls too dumb. But she kept her opinion to herself and stayed polite, as sternly instructed by Mili.

  'Join me to the Ladies' Room?' Mili turned to Shambhavi.

  'Sure.' They asked Vikaas to meet them outside the restaurant and excused themselves. As soon as they closed the washroom door behind them, Mili's eyes brimmed with tears. Shambhavi was baffled. 'What's wrong? He
y, don't cry. Tell me-what happened?'

  'I ... Vikaas ...'

  'Relax, Mili. It's all right. It is a matter of just a year. He'll come back; he loves you. There's nothing to worry about.'

  'I just ... I had this bad dream ...' Mili tried to say something, but failed terribly. Her whole body shook with tears and she kept sniffing. She hid her face in Shambhavi's shoulder and cried. After what seemed like a really long time, she stopped crying enough to explain. 'I had a dream last night-a nightmare. In my dream, Vikaas said that since we will be away anyway, we should take this time off-like a break-to reconsider things and how we feel. He wanted to leave me...'

  'No, Mili. Firstly, it was just a stupid dream. And secondly, I know Vikaas, and I know that he loves you like crazy. He might not show it, but I know.'

  'How?'

  'He's ... he's happy whenever you are around. It just feels right,' Shambhavi said.

  'But that doesn't-'

  'Yes, it does. Now, will you just stop crying and wash your face? He's waiting outside.'

  'I'm just scared that he will find someone better ...' Mili whispered.

  'He will not. Not only is he not that kind of a man, but there's no one else better than you out there. You're the sweetest, and he adores you. Now let's go.'

  When they met Vikaas outside the restaurant, Mili was back to her normal self. Vikaas offered to drop Shambhavi to her place, but she refused. She wanted the two lovebirds to spend every moment together. Also, it was just 8 pm and if she was really quick, she could catch up with the dealer her client had recommended.

  She hailed an auto and got into it, sighing with relief. She knew Mili had noticed something off with her. It was a good thing that they had been surrounded by too many people to allow unwanted interrogation. She plastered a fake smile on her face like she was used to doing and instructed herself to be more careful from then onwards. She could not let her guard slip, lest anyone saw what was really going on ...